Objective_Campaign82
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Sins of the Father Ch45
🕑 Added 2023-07-06 16:37:02 +0000 UTCThe insectoid machines did their job with the same boring precision as always. Once upon a time a bunch of squishy Xeno doctors had been responsible for Zera’s maintenance, until a servo in Zera’s arm twitched and snapped the head doctor’s spine.
That was her story and she was sticking to it.
Now the Syndicate had replaced the squishy doctors with a robotic servicing facility. Completely automated, and boring. Most days she was all alone when the machines serviced her body, today though she had a guest.
Her guest watched the process of disassembly with a bored expression. Once upon a time her guest had watched the process with pride and a sick sense of joy as her weak flesh was carved away. But now he had seen it so many times it had become boring.
Zera hated boring, hated when things got boring, and worst of all hated boring people. And things had been boring for far to long. Her new job had been fun for a while, but what was the point of being a literal killing machine if no one knew her name. Her work had become repetitive and boring, at least until Daisey showed up.
For all of Daisey’s crimes Zera had to thank her for spicing things up. Maybe she would show slitting her throat after she was done having fun instead of letting her slowly bleed out.
“Reaper Mantis!” her guest snapped at her, drawing her thoughts back the here and now.
Her eye twitched, a remnant of her old body. “Its Mantis Reaper. That’s my name.” Zera snapped, her voice coming directly from her chest since the machine had removed her lower face plate and jaw.
Her guest sneered, his stupid pudgy face showing a sick mirth. “That is not what the news is saying. According to them your name is the Reaper Mantis.” He taunted.
The video feed from her ‘eye’ glitched as she felt anger rise. If her arms hadn’t been removed they would have flexed in fury. She clearly remembered saying Mantis Reaper, how could they fuck up so badly as to switch the words around. This would have to be corrected.
She mentally called up a list of news corporations and tried to decide which one to strike. She was going to personally fix this mistake.
Her guest saw what she was doing on a screen monitoring her processors. “We’re not going authorize another slaughter just to soothe your ego.” He scolded. “We’re already managing the fallout from your most recent stunt. There has been a public demand for your capture.”
Zera scoffed, or at least made the appropriate sounds for it. She didn’t exactly have lungs to hold her back anymore. “Let the ants cry all they want, it makes no difference.”
Her guest slammed a fist against a wall in anger. “You think your failure is amusing? I should have you scrapped for your incompetence.” He growled, though the fact that he was only saying this while she was at the mercy of his machines undercut the threat.
That and the fact that if he could have replaced her, he would have. She knew all about the hundreds of other failures, all them too weak to become as powerful as she was. The engineers in his company were brilliant, but they didn’t understand that it took a person with Zera’s mental fortitude to survive the process.
She wasn’t just some fluke. She was special. And unlike her Byron, those so called genius’ couldn’t understand that.
“It was your spy who failed. I went everywhere I was supposed to, its not my fault she wasn’t there.” Zera said with a verbal shrug since her shoulders were currently in an acid bath.
“Now, now” a new voice said in its low droning tones. Her new master, the political genius Ozzath, made a rare appearance in her lair. He put a hand on the shoulder of her guest. “While an unforeseen circumstance interfered that doesn’t mean all is lost.”
The man looked up towards Ozzath’s face. “I don’t see how we can salvage this.”
“Salvage?” Ozzath asked amused. “There’s nothing here to salvage. I had always planned to use the media outrage caused by our assassin to further our goals.” he put a hand on her guests shoulder, and she saw the arrogant man smile.
It took herculean effort not to role her eyes. Her new master truly was brilliant. Years before the man had even been born Ozzath had laid plans to slowly instill loyalty into the brat. Now the man couldn’t even think about betraying her master.
She knew better.
“How so?” her guest asked.
Ozzath’s eyes dropped for a second, disappointed with his protégé’s stupidity. “We ran into a wall when the Terran riots began, and Hanzo took over as Chief of security. Since then our work at removing the Terrans has been…painfully slow. But now the dire threat of Terran violence is all that anyone can talk about. There’s now a growing pressure to evict the Terrans from Unity, and with Unity other stations will follow. Now we just need to wait and let the pressure grow.”
The man scowled at the mention of Chief Gin. “But I thought the plan was for the pirates to stir up trouble?” he asked.
Ozzath looked peeved, “Yes, well, they have been more cunning than I imagined. Their lawyers are too well versed in the law, and even I need to have just cause for concern. If I push too hard then someone might notice my involvement. We need them to start trouble on their own, that’s why Zera here has been attempting to kill off their leader.”
“And Hanzo’s apprentice?”
Ozzath smiled “A favor for a supporter. He wants her dead, and killing a high level security officer could rouse Chief Gin into action. If we can get him to conduct a raid on the pirates of his own volition then no one will suspect us.”
“So we’re stuck waiting on Hanzo or the pirate to start trouble?”
“Not quite.” Ozzath said slowly. “Chief Gin, Miss Heart, and our pesky pirate Astarte will all be at the latest pointless gala put on by the Hearts.”
Her master’s pawn frowned “Stupid Daniel. Everyone knows his family has been losing money and influence for years. Trying to cover it up with parties is only exacerbating the problem.”
Ozzath tilted his head to one side. “Yes, well, he might just be useful one last time before his family is finally bankrupt.”
“Whose the target?” Zera interjected.
As much as she wanted to kill all three, she knew that she might only get one chance.
“Astarte-”
“Daisey!” Zera interrupted. Her master paused and glared at her, but Zera did not back down nor apologize. “I don’t care what that stupid whore calls herself, she still just Daisey. And I’ve beaten her enough times to know how weak she is.”
“And yet in your last two encounters she bested you” her masters pawn said with a taunting smile.
God she wanted to tear his tongue out!
“Do not quarrel in my presence.” Ozzath scolded. The man backed down, and Ozzath turned to her. “He does bring up a good point. No amount skill should be capable of bridging the gap between you two, let alone let her tear off your arm?”
“She is not like me.” Zera growled.
“Then how did she match your power?” Ozzath pressed, this time directing part of the question to his pawn.
He shook his head “I do not know. My engineers say its not possible for even deathworlder flesh to match Zera.”
“Can your species not lift heavy vehicles and boulders when in extreme stress?”
“On rare occasions, and certainly not with the same control. Our bodies limit our strength so that we can perform fine tasks.”
“And yet even limited you are stronger than an ordinary person can ever hope for.” Ozzath grumbled to himself. “When you have dealt with the pirate collect her body and learn her secrets.” He commanded.
“And me?” Zera asked.
Ozzath looked confused “What about you?”
“If I am to kill Daisey then I’ll need better hardware. I’ll need those enhanced limbs you have been holding back.”
The pawn blinked, surprised Zera knew about those. Her master, however, didn’t react in anyway.
He just stared at her with his patient gaze. “Fine” he relented. “See that she is at her peek capabilities” he ordered his pawn before turning to leave.
If Zera had her jaw still attached she might have smiled in triumph. Finally, she would get the power she deserved.
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Objective_Campaign82
Sorry for the delay, I was at my Parents house for the fourth and their internet is spotty at the best of times.
